


some people care too much (i think it's called love)

by salazarastark



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DC Extended Universe
Genre: Alpha Bruce Wayne, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Clark Kent, Omega Tim Drake, Protective Bruce Wayne, Protective Clark Kent, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-13 15:06:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18471430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salazarastark/pseuds/salazarastark
Summary: Clark never expected to find himself in this situation, but it's happening and he's trying to figure out how to proceed with his life.Meanwhile, biologically, Bruce does not have any kids. Emotionally, he just gained a fourth.





	some people care too much (i think it's called love)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yodaisgreat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodaisgreat/gifts).



> Title's from A.A. Milne _Winnie-the-Pooh_.
> 
> I have to thank Euleogy and Karios for looking over this fic and pointing out the typos to me! Thank you so much! :)
> 
> Set at a point post-Justice League, where Bruce had adopted a Tim whose parent's have already passed, and this assumes that the DCEU didn't cut out Dick from the Robin lineup and Bruce merely forgot to talk to him.

Clark feels pain when he wakes up, every part of his body aching, _naked_ , and that makes his stomach swoop in fear. He’s in a jail cell, laying on hard ground, and his hands tremble as his mouth goes dry.

There is kryptonite around here, and he doesn’t know where it is, and he is defenseless.

On shaky legs, Clark stands up, but almost falls down again. If it weren’t for his own strength of will, he would be on the ground trembling from the pain.

Clark closes his eyes as his head rushes, and then they shoot back open in fear when he recognizes another sensation.

His heat.

It’s not due for another week and it’s always been like clockwork for him, but for some reason it has come early, and Clark doesn’t think it’s a coincidence.

He grips his stomach as the cramps press upon it, and without even realizing it, he's fallen onto his knees, pitching forward as a wave of fever washes over him, forehead hitting the ground, squeezing his eyes shut.

This doesn't feel like a regular heat, and Clark doesn't know if that's the kryptonite or the drugs or both.

He moans pitifully into the ground, and collapses on his side, still holding his stomach. He can feel the slick running down his thigh already, and that's terrifying, because it means that this is happening way too soon.

He relaxes in the first stage of his heat, it takes him hours before his arousal has ramped up enough to produce slick.

This is unnatural.

There is a laughter above him, and Clark opens his eyes with a jerk to see Lex Luthor standing over him, bald and cackling, and Clark instantly moves towards the back of the cell.

Normally, he could have Luthor blown back by simple heat vision, but right now he is depowered and going into a fucked up heat and he _knows_ whose fault it is. And he does have his bulk, much more than Luthor's skinny build though alpha he might be, but he knows that's not going to be enough.

“What do you want?” he asks, his breathing heavy and panicked. “Why are you doing this?”

(He knows what Luthor plans to do. He's seen that look before, in dark alleyways and private apartments, knows that an alpha who would get something that could depower him and send him into a heat has a plan to enjoy it. He doesn't want it, wants to buy time before the League gets here.)

“Superman, Superman, Superman,” Lex says in that manic voice that grates on Clark like nails on a chalkboard. “You look absolutely beautiful tonight. _Fertile._ ”

A knot forms in Clark's throat, and he attempts to stand up, but he finds it beyond him at the moment.

He's truly at Luthor's mercy right now.

He watches with terror, almost outside of his own body, as Luthor opens the cage door and walks over to him. He feels, with a pulsing sickness throughout his body, the hands that Luthor puts on his thighs to spread them. He feels the burn of Luthor's cock in him as he pushes in (and out and in again).

Clark wants to throw up.

He wants to fight.

(He should be fighting right? That's what's he should be doing. He's stronger than Luthor even without his powers. But for some reason, he cannot make his limbs move, all he can do is lay there and take whatever this man does to him.)

Luckily, it doesn't last long, but Clark still flinches when Luthor comes inside him. He feels the stickiness of the come as it trickles out of him, and he really should get up.

He just can't do it, not yet.

He's vaguely aware of Luthor saying something, laughing above him, but he tunes it out. Just focuses on nothing but a spot on the wall.

Luthor's gone, but it feels like no time has gone by before there's another person in the cell.

It's Bruce, Batman, and Clark should be relieved, _is_ relieved, but his feelings can't connect to his thoughts, so all he does is stare with disinterest as Bruce carefully picks him up and carries him out of the cage.

*

He wakes up in the Batcave, and he frowns for a moment because he cannot remember how he got here, and then it comes back to him.

Everything that Luthor did to him comes back.

He automatically reaches for his stomach, trails his fingers over his abs. He doesn’t feel his heat anymore, but that doesn’t mean anything. His breathing starts to labor, and he closes his eyes, tries to force himself to calm down.

(Luthor inside of him, laughing above him.)

There is shuffling in the background, and Clark’s eyes fly open. He sees two vague figures in front of him, and for a moment he panics, thinks that it’s Luthor and a friend, but then he starts to see clearly.

It’s Dick and Tim, both of whom look nervous and slightly shame-faced for having been caught sneaking up on Clark.

They shouldn’t have been able to, but Clark finally notices the red sun radiation that’s filled the Batcave.

Tim is the first to move into action, automatically starting to adjust the IV drip that Clark has going into him. “The compound that Luthor used to set off your heat was mixed with Kryptonite, but the effects became nullified with the red sun when we tested it. We then thought it would be best for you to be under the lamps while it left your system.”

Clark automatically nods at that. He trusts Bruce to figure out the best way to let him come out from under this heat, and honestly, the idea of feeling . . . okay sounds absolutely horrendous right now.

He’s ashamed to think it, but he doesn’t want to be okay. He wants to feel sore and miserable and have bruises where he’s supposed to have bruises for a couple days, a reminder that it was real and not something he made up.

The fact that both Dick and Tim seem to know that he went through a heat does send a sharp bolt of fear throughout Clark’s body, however, and he wonders if they know anything else about what he went through with Luthor.

He doesn’t want his (boyfriend’s not the right word, neither is partner, lover sounds just wrong) _Bruce_ ’s sons to know about what happened to him, what Luthor did to him.

But neither Dick nor Tim seem to be acting oddly around him, so either they’re good at hiding their reactions or they have no idea. With Robins, it could be either one, though Clark wonders about Dick. Tim’s sixteen, clearly a beta since he hasn’t presented, but Dick’s an alpha and there’s a good chance he could . . . smell Luthor on him.

“How long have I been out?” he asks, wanting to stop his train of thought. It doesn’t really matter who knows what about what happened. It happened, Clark will allow himself to mope for a few days, and then move on. They’re clearly fine knowing, or at least acting, like they know as little about the situation as possible, so who is Clark to deny them?

“It’s been twenty-six hours since Bruce rescued you,” Tim says, “twenty-five since we got you under the red sun lamps. You’ve been going in and out, but I’m guessing you don’t remember that?”

Clark shakes his head wearily, and Tim’s mouth presses with sympathy.

“Well,” he continues on, adding fake cheer to his voice, “the good news is that at this point, it looks like you have maybe seven hours until the compound leaves your system and you can get underneath a yellow sun again.”

“Okay,” Clark mutters, laying his head down and wondering how the hell he’s supposed to spend these next seven hours, because he sure as hell doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts.

Tim shuffles awkwardly next to him before saying, “We can get Netflix down here. And you told me that _3rd_ _Rock From the Sun_ is your favorite show, so if you want to, we can watch.”

That sounds better than anything that Clark could come up with right now, so he nods his head and lets Tim get the show ready.

They know, he realizes. Tim's too jittery and Dick is just standing there awkwardly, looking like he doesn't want to get too close to Clark, like he knows what Luthor did to him and he doesn't want to get too close in case Clark has an adverse reaction to him.

It's a sweet sentiment, but Clark doesn't want to dance to this tune, so he says, “Are you going to join us?” to Dick, who startles at little at the question.

“Uh, you want me to?” he asks, shifting from foot to foot.

Clark shrugs. “Wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. Unless you have somewhere to be.”

Dick shakes his head. “No, I have nothing else to do. I can definitely . . . hang out,” he finishes lamely. It would make Clark laugh if he could feel anything.

He pulls up a chair, and Tim finishes setting up the show, cheerfully determined to ignore the awkward mood while he pulls up a seat on the other side of Clark. The show starts, and Clark lets the familiar sounds of the Solomon's wash over him as he immediately zones out.

*

Bruce eventually comes down to see him. He’s dressed as Bruce, not Batman, in comfortable clothes that still look like they came right off the runway. He stands at the entrance awkwardly, and Clark finds himself staring right at Bruce, even though Tim and Dick offer nothing more than a wave and a nod respectively when they see their father.

He remembers Bruce standing over him right after Luthor ran. He must have seen the mess that Luthor made, the mess that _he_ was.

“Hey,” Bruce says, casually, like nothing happened. “How are you feeling?”

Clark finds that simple question way too daunting, so he dodges it and asks, “How long do I have before I can get out from under the lamps?”

Bruce blinks, like he wasn’t expecting that, but he gestures toward Tim, who looks at Clark as he says, “It’s been about three hours, but your body is detoxing faster than the original estimate, so you should have about an hour, hour and a half left.”

Clark nods at that. “Good to know.” He faces the television again, and he can feel the looks Bruce, Dick, and Tim are passing around, and he feels the smallest flare of annoyance towards them, one that he pushes down quickly.

“I know you all know what Luthor did to me,” he says bluntly. Tim and Dick immediately look guilty while Bruce does nothing more than raise an eyebrow. The next part is harder to say, but Clark makes himself say it nonetheless. “You know that he raped me. And I don’t want to talk about it and I don’t want to think about it. All I want to do is expel this compound and heal and forget all about it. Okay?”

There’s silence between the three men, and then Dick slowly starts to say, “Clark, what Luthor did was-” and Clark had honestly forgotten that Dick was a cop and that he’s going to go about this like a cop, but Bruce interrupts with a, “Okay, we can agree to that.”

He and Dick glare at each other while Tim nervously fidgets, but Dick does back down and that’s all that Clark cares about. “Luthor needs to be punished,” is the only thing Dick says, and Bruce, stone-faced, merely says, “Don’t worry. He will be.”

Clark doesn’t know what Bruce is planning, and honestly, he doesn’t care. He just wants to put this behind him.

He closes his eyes, not even bothering to pretend that he’s watching the show now. He might as well sleep the rest of this compound off.

When he wakes up, the red lamp lights are turned off and the Batcave is silent and empty. He feels like his old self again, or as much as he can be. There’s some clothes of his folded by the bed, and quickly changes into them before he leaves Gotham and flies, as fast as he can, back to Metropolis.

He’s going to forget about this.

He has to.

*

He manages for about two months, until he cannot ignore the fact that there’s a reason why he’s throwing up every morning, as much as he desperately wishes he could. But all it takes is one quick glance at his stomach to see the small cluster of cells within him. That makes Clark curl up on his bed, panic entering the field of his vision, because no, fucking no, he cannot be having a kid, he cannot be having Luthor’s kid.

He stays like that, shivering on his bed despite the fact that he doesn’t feel cold like a human being does, all night, until the morning comes and the sunlight hits his face and it gives him a moment of reflection. He takes a deep breath, and he makes himself divide the news into sections.

  1. He’s pregnant
  2. Luthor’s the father
  3. Luthor’s the father because he raped him
  4. If Clark doesn’t want to have this baby, he should move fast because he might not be able to get an abortion after too much longer and he’s going to need help from Bruce or Diana, because he doubts that going to an abortion clinic will do any good
  5. If Clark does want to have this baby. . . .
  6. Does he want to have this baby?
  7. It would be smart to abort it, no one would blame him and would be hard to move his life around to accommodate the baby
  8. When he looks at his stomach and he looks _inside_ , he sees a child that he can call his
  9. He needs to talk to Bruce



*

He flies to Gotham as fast as he can, stumbling on his landing when he reaches the manor. The restoration has gone well, and Bruce and Tim have moved back into it. (Clark remembers the first time he came by, with Dick walking him around and showing him all his favorite places before the fire.) The Batcave has been moved underneath it, and Clark is glad to see that Bruce is getting to a place of happiness.

It makes him heartbroken that he isn’t going to join Bruce in that place like he thought.

He stumbles into the manor, and heads straight towards the study, glad that he hasn’t run into Alfred and Tim, though he doesn’t know where either of them are. He can tell that Bruce is in the library, and he heads straight there.

When he enters, he sees Bruce reading some Wayne Enterprise memos, looking content and relaxed. Clark closes his eyes, wondering how he could be so stupid and selfish to disturb Bruce like this, and gets ready to turn around and leave, but before he can make his legs work, Bruce looks up and see him.

“Clark?” he asks with concern, and suddenly, Clark feels so _exhausted_. And he knows it can only be in his mind, because his body can’t be exhausted right now, but it still doesn’t change the fact that Clark feels like he’s carrying a weight that’s far heavier than even he can stand.

He takes a deep breath, and then heads straight towards the couch. He isn’t sure how, but he ends up with his head in Bruce’s lap, Bruce’s hand slowly moving through his hair, and Clark wants to cry with how _nice_ it feels. He wants to enjoy this moment forever, but he knows that he can’t, he knows that Bruce is dying to know what the problem is. So he takes a shaky breath, and forces the words out.

“I’m pregnant with Luthor’s baby.” The hand stills for a second, and then picks up that same soothing rhythm, and then Clark finds the next words tumbling out. “And as stupid as it sounds, I think I want to keep it.”

“Clark,” Bruce says in a low breath. “That’s not stupid.”

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” he blurts out, and he’s starting to actively cry now. “And I’m more scared that I’ve ever been in my life, but I look inside myself and I see something that looks like it could be a baby one day and then I want to see who it could be.”

And Clark turns over so he’s looking at Bruce’s chest and crying into it, and Bruce does nothing more than comb through his hair and tell him, “Whatever you need, Clark, it’s yours.”

Eventually, Bruce carries Clark to his room and gets them both into some old sweats before he settles them both in his bed. He tucks Clark in close to him, and Clark remembers happier times in this bed, times when he and Bruce would laugh and talk and fuck. He remembers spending a heat with Bruce, one of the best heats of his life.

Why couldn’t he have gotten pregnant then? Bruce had worn a condom, but he also knotted him more than once and condoms aren’t always effective. “Why can’t it be yours?” he mumbles into Bruce’s chest, and then hates himself from saying those words.

But Bruce doesn’t say anything other than, “I wish it were mine too.”

Clark isn’t aware of when he falls asleep, but he goes from crying on Bruce’s chest to the blissful darkness of sleep and that’s all he can hope for.

*

He wakes up the next morning with Bruce gone and a note on the pillow saying that he wants Clark to come downstairs as soon as he feels well enough.

Clark isn’t going to feel well enough for a while, so he forces himself downstairs, holding his stomach the entire way.

He comes down to find Bruce, Tim, and Alfred sitting around the dining table, a light conversation awkwardly attempting to take place, one that Clark manages to destroy as soon as he walks in.

Alfred immediately begins to pile his plate with food as Clark sits down, and Clark knows that Bruce had to have told Alfred, but it seems Tim doesn’t know, if his confusion over Clark’s presence is any indication.

“Tim,” Bruce says. “How about when you finish up, Alfred can test you on your bomb defusing skills?”

Tim now knows that something is certainly going on, but apparently that’s an effective way to get Tim out of the room as he proceeds to wolf down the rest of his meal and then heads down to the Batcave with Alfred. Clark’s sad to see them go, especially because it allows Bruce to start speaking.

“We need to talk about last night,” Bruce says, and Clark can’t deny him that, so he nods and turns to look at Bruce.

“I’ve been thinking about something you said, about how you wished the baby was mine,” and Clark closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to draw the strength to apologize to him, but Bruce starts speaking again before he can start. “And I’m not sure if you remember, but I told you that I wished it was mine too.”

Clark’s eyes fly open, and he’s not sure about what to say to that admission, and Bruce trudges on.

“I have three sons, none of whom are mine biologically, but I can’t imagine loving them more if they were. And if I truly had impregnated you in heat, though I know that the timing of it makes it impossible for it to be my child, I would take care of both of you.”

“Bruce, what are you saying?” he croaks out.

Bruce shrugs, like he’s not suggesting some life-changing and incredible idea. “I’m willing to raise your child as our child.” He stops, and for the first time actually appears to be awkward in the face of this admission. “If you’re willing, that is.”

Clark can’t speak. How in the world Bruce is real and in front of him and actually wants to be with Clark even though his entire life has turned upside down, even though he’s about to flip his own life upside down with him, he doesn’t know. He’s just so grateful to have him by his side.

“Bruce, are you sure about this?”

Bruce nods decisively, and then smiles smugly. “I think a fourth child is something I can handle.”

*

Dick and Tim take the news of a new sibling, one who they know is actually Luthor’s kid, with much more grace than Clark would have thought. Dick smiles and laughs and instantly starts making a list of all the things he wants to do with the baby. Tim grins and asks if he can help paint the nursery.

Telling everyone else is harder. Diana was at the rescue, and she knows what Luthor did to him, but she doesn’t breathe a word of what she knows and merely hugs Bruce and Clark tightly. Barry, Hal, and Victor weren’t there. They don’t know about the rape, just the kidnap, and so they think that the baby Clark is going to give birth to in seven months is actually Bruce’s. Arthur says something about the timing, remembering the heat that had only happened a month before, but then he comments that “Of course, you guys would get pregnant out of heat. Always have to beat the odds, huh?” and that worry passes.

Lois is simple. She gives him a hug and tells him how glad she is that he’s happy and settling down with someone he loves, something that she knows he desperately wants. He almost tells her, but he can’t force the words out.

The hardest conversation is with his mom.

In the two months after his rape, he wanted to tell her, almost did a hundred different times, but how do you tell your mother that? How can he look her in her eyes and tell her what exactly Luthor did to him?

How can he tell her what exactly Luthor created?

So he fakes a smile and hugs her mother as she laughs and cries as she finds out she’s going to be a grandmother and Clark wants to tell her more than ever about what really happened. But he can’t. Not when she’s hugging Bruce and telling him that he’s going to be such a good father, how glad she is that Clark found a good man, and if only she knew how good he was.

But Clark can’t tell her.

So he keeps his mouth shut, gets through the congratulations from his close friends and family, dreads the announcement that’s going to have to happen in a few months to let the world know that Bruce Wayne is going to have a kid, one that isn’t adopted.

And Tim makes a comment about Bruce being on the birth certificate and Bruce didn’t contradict him. Bruce seems ready to be considering the legal father, which Clark knew, but it’s still hard to know how much he doesn’t deserve this man, and how that sends him into a tailspin and he almost has a panic attack in the bathroom, in the manor where Clark is now living, because why isn’t he living in the manor of his rich boyfriend, and he commutes every morning to Metropolis, and Jesus Christ, this is so much, how is this his _life_?

*

Eventually, it all comes to a head.

Clark is lying in bed in one of the manor’s guest rooms, and Clark thinks about the fact that he and Bruce have hardly touched each other since Luthor. Bruce will touch him, on the small of the back, on the shoulder, but there’s been nothing else, and Clark doesn’t know _how_ to touch him. He can’t seem to make his hands move in a way that is natural.

He doesn’t know how he feels about it. He knows he _wants_ some physical contact with Bruce. They haven’t yet talked about the official announcement, and Clark doesn’t know how Bruce wants to go about it. Are they going to split up for the papers and say they’re going to co-parent the kid? But why would Bruce want to raise a kid with a man that he is not romantically involved with? He could easily force Clark to take his money and connections for the child without taking on the burden of fatherhood.

Clark doesn’t know what the hell he wants, and thanks to these _stupid_ hormones, he wants to cry over the whole situation.

And he refuses to let that happen.

He forces himself out of bed, and walks down to the Batcave. Doubts crowd his mind with every step, but he pushes them out. Bruce has been incredible and hasn’t pushed the subject even though Clark wishes he would, and that just means that Clark is going to have to suck it up and do it himself.

Of course, Bruce is in the Cave, but luckily, Alfred and Tim aren’t. Clark wonders when the man ever sleeps, and resolves to force Bruce to take care of himself better. But right now, he has to say, “I want to be together.”

Bruce turns slowly around, raises an eyebrow. Clark is delighted to see that Bruce is going to force him to explain himself.

He takes a deep breath, and charges on. “I want to be together in more than just appearances. For God’s sake, we announced that we were having a child together while acting like a normal couple when we haven’t even _kissed_ since before Luthor. And we never actually broke up after it, I just stopped talking to _everyone_ and even though you should have dumped my ass for the stunt I pulled, you never did. But we also haven’t gotten _back_ together, and I really want us to be together again.”

Clark didn’t even realize that he had floated in front of Bruce until he’s right before him, and Bruce is looking up at him with the strangest expression.

“Clark,” he says softly. “I would never _dump your ass_ for not wanting to engage with the world after you were raped. I was upset at what happened to you and I was upset that I didn’t know how to help you. I wanted to be with you so many times.”

A knot appears in Clark’s throat. “You never called.”

Bruce shrugs, and if it were anyone else standing before him, they would think it was casual, but Clark can see the tension of care in those shoulders. “I thought when you didn’t want to hear from me. When you were ready, you would come back.” And then a shadow passes over Bruce’s face. “But, Clark, where you _waiting_ for me to come to you?”

A watery laugh escapes Clark. “I don’t know.”

A smile threatens to cross Bruce’s features. “We’ll have to teach this kid better communication skills.”

“I think Alfred is already preparing the classes.”

Clark’s thumb is soothing circles on Bruce’s cheek, and Bruce leans into them. With more awkwardness and curiosity and wonder than how Clark approached his first kiss, he leans down and ends up essentially sitting in Bruce’s lap to kiss him for the first time in months.

It’s dry and hesitant and one of the best kisses Clark has ever had.

*

It’s like with that kiss, Clark is able to slide into this happy family. They finally tell the press about them and the pregnancy. Clark earns strange looks at the _Planet_ , as the editors wonder how they can use this for stories while still maintaining journalist integrity. Perry swears as he promptly has to determine if Clark can still be working on any of his stories and which ones can never cross his desk because of his and Bruce’s relationship, but a “Congratulations” slips in there, so Clark considers it a win.

The _Daily Planet_ wrote a tasteful announcement where it’s made clear that Clark is a hardworking journalist who will be happily having a baby in a few short months that Bruce has framed and put in the Cave. It is so unlike what seems like every other newspaper and magazine, where the rumors about how Clark got knocked up intentionally and is stringing Bruce along for child support are so bad they’re good.

At least Clark thinks so, but it took Clark, Alfred, and a reluctant Dick to convince Bruce not to sue them for libel.

Superman has to make a sudden appearance on a few different planets because of Kryptonian customs for a few months, possibly even a year, but luckily Wonder Woman, Batman, and Nightwing are all stepping in to watch Metropolis and make sure it stays protected.

Clark isn’t sure how he was so lucky to get the family he has.

There is no news from Luthor, even though Earth's heroes are looking for him. Clark had thought that the news of pregnancy, which Luthor had to have heard and figured out that Bruce wasn't the man who conceived the child, would draw him out, but nothing comes from it.

It gladdens and frustrates him at the same time. He doesn't want Luthor back, and he's terrified about what Luthor might do to gain the child. He doesn't believe that he'll tell the world about Superman to try, he enjoys knowing it too much, but the fact that he could, the fact that he might be biding his time until he can grab the child, sends chills throughout Clark.

But everyone is on the watch, even if most of them are simply under the impression that Lex just wants a Kryptonian child, not _his_ child.

(Arthur catches Luthor in Australia when Clark hits the fifth month. Sends him packing back to prison, and when Clark goes up to Maine to thank him, he catches the subtle looks toward his stomach where he's just starting to show and the hidden words, and he realizes that Arthur _does_ know. That he put the pieces together and he's not going to breathe a word and a wave of gratitude almost knocks Clark over.)

Life unfurls. Clark and Bruce manage to bring their relationship to what it was, soft touches and hard kisses, arguments and agreements about right and wrong.

They even start having sex again, Clark nervous and gripping Bruce’s arms far too tightly the first time Bruce enters him, but soon he’s lost again to Bruce’s skill and determination to make sure Clark will be a whimpering mess far beyond the point of speech. But there are still some things that Clark can’t say to him.

It takes Tim for Clark to get to that point.

*

At sixteen, Tim is almost too old to present, so while they recognize the fever he's developing, they truly think it's just an illness.

Until Clark wakes up and he smells an _omega_ _that isn't him_. He's up like a shot, and heads straight to the source, to Tim's room.

Tim is whimpering on the bed, riding the wave of a first heat that Clark knows will be bad because of how old he is.

Clark got his at twelve, right at the beginning of average, and he thought it has been bad, but looking at Tim, he realizes how much worse it could have been.

Tim is clinging to a pillow, long hair sticking to his red face thanks to his sweat. He's curled into himself, face full of pain as cramps and fever hit him.

Clark moves inside the room, and places a hand on Tim's shoulder that makes Tim jump, and that worries Clark because this heat must be really bad for it to have made Tim unaware of his surroundings.

“Hey,” he whispers, and he just gets a whimper of, “It hurts,” in response.

“I know,” Clark says, and he manages to get onto the bed. Tim lets go off the pillow and curls around Clark instead, head on shoulder and arm around the small bump of Clark's stomach. (Clark isn't showing much, and he's not sure if it's because he's a Kryptonian or if it's just him.)

Tim sniffles, and Clark circles him in his arms. The poor kid is crying because of the pain.

“And this is _every_ three months?” his horror filled voice asks.

“Yeah,” Clark sympathized. “But they're not usually this bad. The first heat always tends to be one of the worst.” So is the first heat after giving birth, but Clark pushes the thought out of his mind.

Of course, Tim could be one of the unlucky omega's who suffer from awful heats in general, but most of the time that means there's something wrong with the heat system and medication is required, and Clark doesn't see the sense in frightening the boy right now with maybes right now.

Tim makes a sound that’s like some sort of mix of a laugh and a sob and it’s filled with incredulity. “God, I hope so. I can’t imagine going through this every single damned time,” Tim whimpers.

Clark nods, feeling the tears buildup in his eyes. “Yeah, it would be hell.”

The door opens a crack, and Clark sees both Bruce and Dick peak in, worry in both their eyes and their scents. Tim doesn’t seem to notice, which is still worrying if understandable. Tim shuffles in Clark’s arms. “I’m scared,” he admits, and he sounds guilty, for reasons Clark doesn’t know.

“Of heats?” Clark asks. “Don’t be. They’ll even out and if they stay this bad, Bruce will find you the best doctor possible.”

Tim shakes his head, and his hair ruffles against Clark’s neck.

“What if. . . . What if Luthor or someone like him. . . . I mean, Batman and Robin have so many enemies that are alphas and what if-” Tim cuts off as he starts to hyperventilate and Clark grips him even closer in horror because of course that’s where Tim minds goes, when he sees what happens when an alpha decides that an omega is something to take, to own, to _master_. He sees Bruce’s jaw twitch and terror cross Dick’s face as they realize what Tim means.

“Tim,” Clark starts to say, but Tim forces himself to continue. “I know you’re going to say that you or Bruce or Dick won’t let anything like that happened, but you _can’t_ promise. You can’t. Because things happen and I know you didn’t want and you didn’t plan on Luthor getting you pregnant. And what if that happens to me and I don’t have someone like Bruce to help me? And I’m sorry, but I’m so scared and I don’t know what to do and-”

Tim hiccups, his body forcing him to breathe, and Clark tries to process what he just heard through his own blurred vision. He can see how badly Dick wants to come inside and hold Tim close to him and calm him down, and he how Bruce wants to go downstairs and destroy a punching bag, but they’re staying put.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Clark whispers, tightening his grip around Tim with one hand and bringing the other hand up to gently card the hair out of Tim’s face, red and puffy with his tears. “Look, you’re right. As much as I want to, I can’t promise that nothing will ever happen to you. But I can promise you that I’ll always be here for you, and so will Dick and Bruce, okay? You never need to worry about that. And you may not have someone who wants to make that kid their own, but you will have people who will help you and will raise your kid, okay? _If_ that happens to you. It might not, okay? And it’s useless to worry about something when you don’t know and you’re prepared as much as you can be.”

Tim’s breathing has calmed down, and while he’s still crying, it doesn’t seem to be as bad. Bruce and Dick are gone from the doorway, but Clark hears them in the hallway. He smells their worry and fear and anger and terror. Dick’s crying, and Bruce is closer to it as Clark has ever seen before. He sharpens his vision to X-Ray through the wall, and he sees them both sitting down next to each other, Dick’s arms curled around his legs and head on Bruce’s shoulder while Bruce has an arm wrapped Dick’s shoulders. Alfred is on the stairs, himself close to tears, but he wants to be alone with his grief.

He remembers with a sharpness that Bruce and Dick and Alfred know exactly what it’s like to lose a son and a brother and a grandson to a villain. Jason was an alpha and he wasn’t raped, but he had been beaten by a crowbar, made to crawl to a locked door, and blown up.

Clark read the report. Jason probably had enough time to realize he was going to die before the explosion went off, and he probably spent his last moments hoping desperately for a rescue that was never going to come. Clark can’t help but wonder when Jason realized it wouldn’t be coming, or if he believed he would be saved right until the bitter end.

Clark instantly grips Tim closer to him and forces himself to take a deep breath.

“Can I ask you something?” Tim weakly asks. “You don’t have to answer it, but I’ve been wondering about it. . . .”

Clark knows exactly what he means, and he knows that Tim needs an answer right now, and Clark wants to give him one. Wants to give Bruce and Dick, who are still listening, an answer. “Part of me wanted to keep the baby because I was scared of what getting an abortion might require, and what it could cost me in the future. My biology is foreign and what if something happened that could make it impossible for me to conceive in the future. And truth be told, I’m nervous that I might not be able to conceive a child now with any human. The baby’s healthy right now, but anything could happen.

“Another part of me wanted to keep the baby because it was going to be half-Kryptonian. It would be some small legacy of an entire people and culture, and maybe it would make the small part of me that always felt so completely _alone_ heal a little. And another part of me just wanted something good to come out of what Luthor did to me. It was one of the worst things that ever happened to me, and it felt like maybe it happened for a reason, that maybe it happened because this child would have never been conceived otherwise.”

And there’s one more thing and Clark never wants Bruce to hear and he also wants him to be the only to hear it. He still takes a deep breath and makes himself say it anyway. “And the last part of me decided to keep it because once I forced myself to acknowledge I was pregnant, I immediately ran to your father for comfort, and the first thing he told me the next morning was that he was willing to raise the baby with me and all of sudden, it felt like I could do it. That maybe it wasn’t going to be as hard and as scary as I thought it was going to be. As long as he was with me.”

The only thing Clark hears after that is five people breathing. His and Tim’s in this room. Bruce and Dick’s in the hallway. Alfred’s on the stairs.

“Clark,” Tim says, finally, _thankfully_ , done crying. “I’m really glad you’re having my little sibling.”

“Me too,” Clark says, and when Tim accidentally grazes his hand against the bump, they both feel it.

The smallest, littlest kick.

They look at each other, and promptly begin to laugh.

(Clark calls in Bruce, Dick, and Alfred, watches them all place their hands reverently on his belly to find the kicking baby. They all take shifts with Tim over the next two days while he rides out his heat, and Clark finally watches _3rd Rock_ with Tim.)

*

When he and Bruce go to Leslie for the next appointment, they find out it’s a girl and Clark actually cries again as he grips Bruce’s hand tight as he stares at the screen, at his _daughter_.

*

Names are hard, Clark realizes, as he rejects another name for his daughter. Dick frowns, having clearly thought that ‘Ava’ was going to be the winner. He and Tim have been having a competition about who’s going to find the perfect name for their baby sister. Tim’s last suggestion of ‘Clara’ hadn’t been the one either, and they both duck their heads back into the baby name books.

Clark knows the middle name for his daughter, or the middle _names_ he should say. But while he wants his daughters to have the names ‘Martha Jay’ in hers, he wants her first name to be entirely hers.

He just can’t find the right one.

Clark looks at Alfred who’s calmly reading the paper with them in the living room. The man is smiling at the antics of the boys, even though Dick is twenty-four and he and Clark are closer in age than Clark and Bruce, and Clark is going to stop this line of thought right now.

“Do you have any suggestions, Alfred?” he asks, and Alfred looks up.

“Depends,” he says. “What will be the last name of the little one?”

And that’s a very good question.

Clark has silently assumed the last name would be Wayne without even realizing it, and he doesn’t actually know if Bruce wants that. But he clearly isn’t the only one when Dick says, “It’s going to be Wayne, right?” and Tim is wearing a look that says the same thing.

“Is it?” Alfred says, and then looks at Bruce who has the misfortune to be walking through the doorway at this very moment. “Master Bruce, I am aware that you are planning on the child having the last name ‘Wayne,’ but perhaps you should actually discuss that with the mother of your child? Just an idea.”

Bruce actually looks, for lack of a better word, flabbergasted at the question.

“Why wouldn’t it be Wayne?” he asks.

“Could be Kent or Wayne-Kent or Kent-Wayne,” Alfred states. “I assume Mr. Kent has an idea.”

Perhaps the baby should have one of those last names, but Clark _wants_ her to have Wayne as a last name, something that connects her solely to Bruce. He’s aware he has four pairs of eyes on him as he says, “Wayne sounds the best, I think.”

Alfred and Bruce are somehow managing to give the other a satisfied and smug grin while ignoring what the other is doing, and Dick and Tim go back to the books.

Until Alfred says, “And I think Audrey would be a perfectly lovely name for the little one.”

Clark and Bruce look at each other. Clark tilts his head to side as murmurs, “Audrey Martha Jay Wayne.”

Dick and Tim both curse as they close the books, and then promptly start arguing about what Alfred figuring out the perfect name means for the bet they had going on.

*

The nursery is finished, painted a soft blue with yellow accents. It has a bird mobile given to them by a Barbara Gordon, a beautiful woman who was once Batgirl before the Joker and forged herself as Oracle after.

Clark wants his daughter to be just like her (and Lois and Diana and his own mother).

His daughter already has the most impressive display of stuffed animals in Gotham thanks to Dick, and Tim is already planning all the museum and zoo trips he can do with her. (She also owns onesies and booties decorated with every single member of the Justice League as well as Nightwing and Robin. Bruce tried to destroy the Green Lantern ones, but Clark managed to save them, though he knows it’s just a matter of time before another attempt is made.)

Clark goes into Jason’s room one night, which has been virtually untouched for the last three years, and stares at the collection of books the boy has accumulated. He gently touches _The Complete Tales of Winnie-The-Pooh_ , beaten and worn and well-loved. When he opens it, he sees a note that says:

_To my beautiful Jason,_

_Happy birthday._

_You’re seven years old today, and it’s so hard to comprehend that you’re no longer that baby boy I first laid eyes on. Time has flown by so fast and it’s not going to be long before you’re a man, a man that I am going to be so proud to call my son._

_I loved these stories when I was little, and I wish I still had my old copy to give you, but I lost it long ago. But I know how much you’ll enjoy these stories, so I’m giving you your own copy, one I hope you’ll pass down to your own child._

_I love you baby boy_

_Your Mama_

_CT_

Clark blinks back his tears. Jason must have kept this book on him all throughout his time on the streets, and that couldn’t have been easy, and while his mother will never get her wish of this book being read to Jason’s children, maybe she won’t mind it being read to Jason’s little sister.

He puts the book in Audrey’s room.

By the next day, Pooh and all of his friends from the Hundred Acre Woods have joined the rest of the stuffed animals.

*

Audrey’s was due on March 21, but she decides to arrive a little earlier.

It’s in all actuality a very easy birth, and Leslie and Arthur barely have to do any work. Clark’s invulnerable and Audrey’s half-Kryptonian, and labor only ends up lasting three hours, so at 2:08 A.M. on March 13, 2019, Audrey Martha Jay Wayne comes into the world.

(To the rest of it, Bruce Wayne and his partner decided to have a home birth, and Clark would be upset over his own erasure from giving birth to his child, if he wasn’t glad for the lack of scrutiny and he knows Bruce did that on purpose.)

Clark counts her ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes, kisses the top of her dark hair and looks into her blue eyes. He knows there’s more than a good chance that she end up with Luthor’s coloring as she gets older and her features are too baby to really tell what they are, so they could be his, but somehow Clark doesn’t think she’ll end up looking anything like Luthor.

She’s all him.

Though according to Dick, she has Bruce’s scowl when she experiences hunger for the first time and gets upset, but he thinks all children gain that with prolonged exposure to Bruce considering he’s seen that same scowl on Dick and Tim and he would bet good money Jason had it too.

She is also, to put it lightly, adored. His mother cries the first time she holds her granddaughter. Alfred tears up. Diana literally squeals “A baby!” as soon as she comes into the room, and Clark has pictures of Barry, Victor, and Hal awkwardly holding the baby while Bruce glares behind them, prepared to take Audrey at the smallest sign of a loosened grip. Other than Diana, Arthur is the only one that has any confidence in holding a newborn, and Clark makes sure to get Mera a copy of that picture.

Lois plays peek-a-boo with her for a half-hour, and Dick starts asking how old Audrey has to be before he can show her off at his station.

Tim just brings his computer and tablet and sits next to Audrey while he works on whatever case he and Bruce are currently on.

But the thing that Clark holds onto the most in those first few days of Audrey’s life is when he goes looking for her and Bruce to find them in the Batcave. If he were a normal human, he would not have heard the soft voice of Bruce telling Audrey, alert in his arms, about Jason as they stand in front of his uniform:

“Jay would have loved you just as much as Dick and Tim do. God, he would already be reading to you and trying to get you to say your first word, which would be Jay, of course. And I would tell him it’s way too early for you to be talking, and he would have just told me that I don’t know his little sister, that I couldn’t see how smart you were, and then he would laugh and you would probably start laughing with him even though it’s far too earlier for you to be doing that too, but he had that kind of laugh and he would be right. You’re just way too smart not to be blowing us all away with every little thing you do.”

Bruce takes a deep choking breath, and then continues on, giving Audrey a watery smile.

“It hurts so much to know that you’re never going to meet him, but I’m going to make sure you know him. You have three big brothers, little one, and they’re all going to be watching out for you. I’m never really believed in guardian angels, but I can make an exception this one time, because Jason was the exception that broke all the rules. He’s watching over you right now, and no matter what, he’s going to make sure you’re safe.”

Audrey looks at Bruce and blinks, and then she smiles, and while Clark has read enough know that she can’t really be _smiling_ at only a few days old, he would swear on his own mother’s life that she actually was, and more than that, despite no blood relation being between them whatsoever, it looked just like Jason’s smile in the pictures that Clark has seen.

Bruce seems to think the same thing as his own smile grows bigger and his voice cracks upon the words, “There’s that smile.”

*

Clark sits on the couch, head on Bruce’s chest while Bruce was one arm wrapped around him and one arm keeping Audrey balanced on the other side of his chest. Clark has one hand on Bruce’s chest with Audrey having one hand wrapped around a finger.

Dick and Tim are sprawled on the other couch, Tim drooling onto Dick’s shirt while Dick is holding him in a grip that almost looks painful, but Clark knows that Tim loves it.

He moves his gaze away from them, and back to his daughter, sound asleep just like her father and brothers.

The mess of emotions that arises in Clark whenever he thinks about his rape comes back and he doesn’t think they’ll ever leave. A part of him feel guilty about how he still wishes it never happened to him even though he wouldn’t have Audrey otherwise.

But they are faded and muted in the background in his life, and Clark wouldn’t trade his daughter for anything in the world. She’s his and Bruce’s, and nothing to Luthor, and most importantly, she’s her own self.

And Clark meets her everyday, when she smiles at Dick’s funny faces and cries whenever she can’t see her stuffed robin, and God, is Tim smug about that. She’s a month old and she has a personality.

She’s a person.

And Clark already loves who she is.

He can’t wait to see who she’ll become.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you like it! I have a lot of sequel thoughts, but I thought this was a good place to end it for the exchange, but I would love to talk to you after author reveals about what you'd like to see in future installments of this series.


End file.
